Chapter 40: Secondary Characters, Part 2
The Phoenix lived. As the sun’s unforgiving rays burned away the last of her body, a brilliant power rose from her ashes. A new fire took Asteroid M, one impervious to meager restraints like reality. With all his pain taken away, Logan thought he was in heaven.
Not today, not yet.
Black carbon reformed into the shape of Jean. The Phoenix tore Logan’s charred flesh away to reveal untouched skin. Metals and rocks disentangled from their configurations and awaited orders.
Air filled space. Heat lessened. The cry of a proud avian echoed through the vast universe.
“Can you see, Logan?”
Last he remembered, the sun burned his eyes and ears to a crisp. Last he remembered, he was in space where people couldn’t hear you scream. His memories betrayed him again because he stood in a nebula surrounded by formless material, undying fires, and an ashen silhouette of Jean.
“I dunno. What am I supposed to be looking at?”
Light burst from cracks in the silhouette. As more light shined through, more cracks appeared, finally crescendoing into a mighty detonation. Clothed in her Dark Phoenix outfit, Jean stepped through into her new existence as the Phoenix, the physical expression of a cosmic force. Energies cascaded from her, wrapped her in an angelic glow to compliment the blazing bird engulfing the place Asteroid M should’ve been.
She looked like Jean, even smelled like Jean, but at the same time, she wasn’t Jean.
“What did you do?” asked Logan. “I was on fire and then... then...”
The red head spoke but her lips didn’t move. “I did nothing,” she replied. “You did it. You released the Phoenix, and now, the Phoenix is ready to save us.” The quicksilver-like metal molded itself. Rock congregated. “Total kinetic control of matter through the subatomic level--I’m building a transport to guide us back to earth. The sun will push us and give us the propulsion we need.”
“Wait, Jean-”
“I have no time, Logan. I had to die to come back, and I don’t know how long they’ll let me stay.”
“Who’s they?”
“Even the Phoenix must answer to others.”
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Kitty phased into an abandoned fast food restaurant to get away from her pursuers. She’d lost sight of everyone else--Scott, Hank, Forge, and Jubilee--long ago, and the chance of finding them in this climate wasn’t high. Of course, Scott didn’t help matters by charging to the Empire State Building like no one’s business. Wouldn’t have been a problem if legions of mutants didn’t stand in the way. What kind of plan was “fight through them” anyway? Kitty blamed the Mark 3 for crashing itself and giving an opportunity to Scott to muck even more things up.
Honestly, seemed like someone inputted the wrong protocols into the flight plan. Kitty wasn’t pointing fingers, but only Scott touched the controls. What? Not like anyone could HACK into the highly encrypted system. Hell, a person needed a computer of brain to even consider the feat, and after that, said person needed security clearances and a lifetime of experience to execute a remote self-destruct command. So, this had to be one person’s fault.
“Nice going, Scott,” she mumbled.
The gang of mutants chasing her rambled by this small Mexican eatery. After seeing them round the corner, Kitty sighed: one less thing to worry about. However, while her hiding place seemed abandoned, it also resembled a war zone. Bodies of a few mutants and plenty humans sprawled over counters, tables, floors, and chairs. Blood mixed together with unfinished food. And the most damning sight? An open cash register flanked by the corpses of two people who appeared to be fighting over money before death claimed them.
How many lives were ruined in this place alone? Each one dead had a story, and Kitty wondered how many of those stories wouldn’t have a happy ending.
God, all her life she’d fought for these people. She’d faced certain death so others wouldn’t, so they’d live in blissful peace. Was this how they spent the days she bought with her sweat, blood, and tears? Did Peter’s sacrifice mean nothing to these people? Not everyone could be a superhero, but was being a decent person too much to ask?
The bitter bile in her throat sickened her. She needed to get out of here, away from the stabbed, strangled, and shot bodies, away from the lone ringing cell phone lying next to a man sporting a bullet hole in his head.
Dejected, Kitty phased through the walls and into another store. A gift shop this one and it was no longer in the spirit of giving. Broken windows and empty racks destroyed the festival atmosphere even as a small music box played “Jingle Bell Rock.”
At least no one died in here.
Suddenly, a baby’s faint cries, accompanied by hoarse screams and cruel, juvenile needling, filled the air. Kitty’s sharp hearing pinpointed the sounds in a general direction, and calling on her physical and emotional reserves, she took off. Without regard for life or limb, she phased through walls and building, using the disturbance as her guide.
The trail ended in a small convenience store.
Inside stood the gang of mutants who harassed her. The five strong faction surrounded a sweaty woman and her messy, blonde haired newborn. One of them severed the umbilical cord with a pilfered knife while another snatched the baby from the mother’s weak grasp. Twirl and whirl went the child carrying mutant while the others held the desperate mother in check.
Declarations of “That’s my child!” and “Give her back to me!” aggravated one of the more violent individuals. His fist turned gray like stone a moment before he clubbed the woman in the back of the head--she dropped like a sack of beans. The violent hit jarred Kitty from her dazed state.
She grabbed a fire extinguisher and clobbered the one holding the baby. The well-aimed, well-timed blow resulted in the mutant falling over unconscious and cushioning the crying newborn. A puff of white foam blinded the four others. Three more thunder crack strikes left one of the gang remaining, the one who hit the woman. As the fire retardant cleared away, Kitty lobbed the red canister at the man. On reflex, he caught the projectile in his arms. Distracted, he failed to see the impressive kick which propelled him into the beverage fridge’s glass pane.
When the last of the glass shards clanked to the linoleum floor, only the baby’s crying could be heard. Kitty bent down to where the young mother lay. Her eyes were open wide, still like her body. She didn’t had no breath. A touch of her wrist revealed the obvious: no pulse.
The blonde baby girl cried louder.
Here ends the story of Marissa Ackerman.
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They peeled off: Warren dove after Bobby and Sam went for Ororo. They had no strategy, only a drive to succeed. Determination alone saw them through countless dog days, and by the looks of things, this would be one of the doggiest in recent memory. Good thing Warren rated among the most determined of people, and Sam? He wasn’t shabby in that department himself.
Too bad. In their zeal, they lost of sight who exactly they were dealing with.
Warren swooped in and saved Bobby from shattering into a million pieces. Though alive, the immense hole in his chest courtesy of Fantomex ruined his day. As shown by Emma, he wouldn’t die, but he did hurt a whole lot.
His chest might’ve needed help, but his mouth ran just fine.
“Whew, flyboy, am I glad to see you!”
“How’s Paige?”
“What? No ‘How you doin’ Bobby?’ I just got shot!”
“If you can talk, then you’re fine. I’d be worried if you shut-”
Warren stiffened. A spring of blood erupted from his chest, and all Bobby could see before they corkscrewed out of control was a sniper rifle totting Fantomex leaning over the edge of Empire State Building, smoke ascending from his barrel. A colorful insult died on the tip of Bobby’s tongue when the two airborne X-Men tumbled through a window, two file cabinets, and an office Christmas tree.
Sam fared much better. Magneto was about to impale Storm on a flagpole when she summoned a holy hell of a typhoon. The gale winds threatened to upend everyone caught in its path, and that included the captured X-Men. Lining himself up, Sam braved the tempest, his purpose to round up the teammates trapped in ice. He crashed into Bishop, Paige, and Alex, but wasn’t the Professor in between Paige and Alex? He glanced back to see Tessa struggling to haul Charles over to the fire escape door.
Like any good southern boy, he assumed the woman had the best of intentions.
Well, not to mention he probably couldn’t carry the Professor as well. Three people tested the limits of his strength and mutant powers. Four would be impossible.
Bolts of lightning sought Toad and electrocuted him for his previous transgression. The winds toppled Fantomex and Esme, the two unprotected by magnetic shields. Even with said shields, Magneto, teeth gritted and forehead creased, strained against the weather witch’s best shot.
Lorna yawned. Her body built up such a wealth of power that hurricane force gales failed to move her. Powered by the negative emotions of millions and the effects of Kick, Lorna floated up to Ororo.
Pretty. White hair spread out in all directions. Dark skin glistened in rain water. Ample breasts heaved against her wet clothes. Eyes closed like she had no cares about tomorrow. Guttural groans showed her effort. Face tilted to the clouds. Pretty in a primal fashion and Lorna liked Ororo this way.
Lorna stuck her tongue in Ororo’s opened mouth and formed an airtight seal with her lips. A surprised squeal indicated Storm’s lapse in concentration. The rains slowed, the winds stopped, and Toad plunked onto the cement looking much like a lump of coal. Her still bound hands batted about, but besides making wet slapping noises, they did nothing.
Stunning Ororo, Lorna broke the kiss. “Pretty,” Polaris smiled, “Too bad you’re not on Papa’s side.”
After being flung into a building by Magneto earlier, Rogue dusted herself off and prepared to have another go at him. Not even halfway to her feet, Storm, punched by Lorna, plowed into her and knocked her back on her butt.
Meanwhile, Magneto noticed his missing hostages.
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- To be continued...
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